We Hold the Lights: Me, You, COVID-19, Glennon Doyle, and God

I had planned for my next blog post to be a get to know me post. For everyone new to my writing and new to me, I was prepared to state some fun facts, explain where I’ve been and how I live. But I think, instead I will just write my mind. Perhaps you will learn some about me, maybe a little more about yourself and our shared humanity, and hopefully you may find peace- even if just for a little while. So I invite you in and I give myself out.

Fun fact: I have asthma. I also have anxiety. Neither of which are really fun, just fact, and one which I lament more often than I like to admit.

For the last couple weeks I have been hearing that the COVID-19 virus is only really deadly and harmful to the elderly and the immunocomimised. Initially, I did not put myself in either of those categories. But as my father pointed out today, I have asthma and a common cold takes me out for two weeks. I’m talking, wheezing when I walk, trips to get breathing treatments, and inability to breathe deeply in this atmosphere. And upon reflection of his words, I realized that there is a real possibility of this virus wrecking some havoc in my body. Which is scary thought. Before this realization I did care about those affected. But now, it’s personal.

And if I am to be honest with myself, it always should have been.

We are not on this earth to live in separation from each other. What hurts one of us, should hurt us all. We are only as taken care of as our most vulnerable. We are only as strong as our weakest. We are all in this together, even if we don’t want to admit that. We are each other’s neighbors and family. We are all children of mother earth- inextricably intertwined with each other. This. Is. Personal.

When we call out, God hears. God does not forsake us to go reside in other spaces, for God is in us- the only way out is death. And even in death, we return to our maker.

Fun fact about myself: After I was adopted my parents say my nights and days were mixed up. And we often joke that I never fully figured it out.

People sometimes ask what I do with all my awake time in the night. Sometimes I hold dance parties, sometimes I read, sometimes I watch TV shows, and other times I stare at the wall and contemplate life. Last night I stared at the wall and traced the red crayon scribbles left there by a previous occupant of the house. When I was a child I was under no illusion that this world was an easy place to inhabit(hence all my anxiety). Now that I am an adult, I am sure that my childhood deduction was correct; life is complex, and hard, and good, and worth it.

Last night, laying in my childhood bed, in this country that just declared a national emergency in response to the Coronavirus, I found myself praying. This praying felt foreign. It was not said on my hands and my knees to a God that I have been told is “somewhere out there.” It was not said at all. It was felt. See, I believe that God is not only out in the world, but in us. Like in some ways, we are our own gods. God made us and gave us god- laying in our heartbeats and alive in our souls. So when we live, god lives. When we call out, God hears. God does not forsake us to go reside in other spaces, for God is in us- the only way out is death. And even in death, we return to our maker.

So my heart beat. My mind wandered. My God heard.

Fun fact: After a (estimated) five year hiatus I am finally reading for fun again. By which I mean, I read, not encouraged by anyone, and it is fun.

It feels like life. Again.

After everything that is trying to destroy us, we are reborn in this peace, fully alive.

Currently, I am reading Untamed by Glennon Doyle. Before that, it was Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi, Speak No Evil by Uzodinma Iweala, and Don’t Call Us Dead by Danez Smith. I also read The Vision of a Champion by Anson Dorrance and Gloria Averbuch but you probably are not on here to collect all my book recommendations. I bring up the fact I read now because it is indicative, to me at least, about my ability to adapt. We humans can adapt when we are asked. We do not break, but instead, we can bend, twist turn, and realign without losing ourselves completely in the process.

I started reading again partially due to the fact I needed a way to relax at work. I work at Starbucks in Target. This is to say I have to deal with people all day. And every day we get a handful of high maintenance people as well. The work is fast-paced, we are understaffed, and there is a lot asked of us. By the time I go to take my break all I am looking for is some peace of heart and mind. I say this not to speak like I hate my work or the environment, but to give a picture of an every day. Reading has become my solace. For thirty minutes in my work day I unplug and breathe.

Today I did not have work. But The Sports have been cancelled (I’m big sad about this) and I also was not able to travel to my football tryouts. So I found myself with a free day, anxiety due to the Coronavirus, a long to-do list, and future plans up in the air. I decided to go to a local art store, sit on the couch and read Untamed. I am learning how to adapt. I am learning that when the world calls, with all its noise and demands, I can take thirty minutes to unplug and look to what will help me relax.

Side note: Glennon Doyle’s new book is fantastic. 10/10 recommend everyone read it. It is deserving of its own post, not just a mention in this one. If you’re looking for comfort, if you wondering where your humanity is, if you don’t know your next step, if you need a great read- buy Untamed.

I do not know how to achieve perfect peace in this life, but I do know what thirty minutes of remembering to breathe and let go feels like.

It feels like life. Again. After everything that is trying to destroy us, we are reborn in this peace, fully alive.

We humans are creators. We are created to love. Called to community. Pulled towards each other, and asked to not let go. We hold the lights.

Last fun fact: I used to sleep with my room light on because I was afraid of the dark. (RIP to my family’s electricity bill)

If sleeping in the light has taught me anything, I have learned that what I was afraid of in the dark may still be scary in the light, but the truth does not hurt worse than not knowing. I have learned that even with light, there will still be shadows. What resides in the shadows should not be neglected or forgotten. And I have the ability to decide if I want to turn on the light or sleep in the dark.

I take comfort in these lessons during this time. This COVID-19 is scary. But not being informed brings unbridled fear. Even if we think we are okay, there are people in the margins that should not be neglected or forgotten. And we can decide if we want to be properly informed and if we wish to try to support our neighbors and communities.

We humans are creators. We are created to love. Called to community. Pulled towards each other, and asked to not let go. We hold the lights.

So set a candle ablaze. Send a prayer to whoever you pray to.

This is for us:

A candle for the artists whose livelihood has been threatened.

A candle for the athletes.

A candle for those receiving racism and xenophobia.

A candle for those struggling with mental health.

A candle for disabled people.

A candle for LGBTQ+ people.

A candle for black, indigenous, and people of colour.

A candle for immigrants and refugees.

A candle for the immunocomprimised.

A candle for the incarcerated.

A candle for the most vulnerable in this society.

A candle for those who are sick.

A candle for those who have lost loved ones from sickness.

A candle for those without community.

A candle for those who are unemployed.

A candle for those who will be unemployed.

A candle for those who cannot afford to call out sick.

A candle for the children without meals because of schools closing.

A candle for families unable to provide for their children.

A candle for those who can no longer pay their bills.

A candle for those who do not have shelter.

A candle for those quarantined in unsafe situations.

A candle for students being sent home. For students unable to return home.

A candle for those without health insurance.

A candle for those without adequate healthcare.

A candle for those providing healthcare.

A candle for the scientists.

So set a candle ablaze.

We humans are creators. We are created to love. Called to community. Pulled towards each other, and asked to not let go. We hold the lights.

A candle for you.

And candle for me.

All my love,

-K